Vincentcentric: In the Heat of Battle
by Xena Minotaur Girl
Summary: Two fighters stare each other down in the midst of a fierce battle. It seemed Sephiroth had the upper hand, Vincent unable to land a reasonable attack. Everything changes when one of the demons feel the need to take control… [Vincentcentric][Oneshot]


Okay, I wrote this on my Biology field trip last week XD me and the others were all in the student common-room somewhere between 9:30 and 10:00 in the evening, of course, I was bishie-high…

Me - /sitting there quietly with notebook and pen, staring at the boys playing pool and the rubbish on TV/ I wanna write gore…

Girl in my dorm - /looks over/ Write gore then. /shrugs/

Me - Otay! n.n /writesVincenttorture/

And this is what came from that… n.n; At about 10:30 we were all sent to our dorms, and when I got up there, one of the girls was already asleep so I sat on the floor outside the room to finish. And that's the story of this ficcu XD

But yes, hope you enjoy

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Beating the single, powerful, black appendage, the young man watched the scene with mild amusement, the slight smirk crossing the pale face illustrating that emotion perfectly. Wiping the weapon with an infinite delicately on the ground he hovered just above, he cleaned the red liquid running down its smooth edge. The slightly relaxed eyes that rested on the shining metal closed slowly as if in thought, before they opened sharply again; cold narrow orbs burrowing into the bloody mess before him, looking through the shimmering strands of silver that flowed past them.

The target returned the freezing gaze with a weakened one, the ruby eyes flickering very slightly with an inner glow. Hurting the silver haired being was the last thing he actually wished to do, but… looking over the One Winged Angel towering majestically over him, through black bangs drenched in his own blood, the young man finally managed to struggle to his feet, gripping a nearby mound for support with the frightening golden claw, his entire body screaming in protest.

"Why did you challenge me, Vincent Valentine? Why can you not seem to land a half decent technique? I know you're better than this, Vincent." Laying his spare palm across his bare chest, an icy, serious expression crossed his face. "If you persist in defying me, asking me to become part of your side, at least make it worth my time. Put some force behind your diplomacy, this is simply pathetic." The last word was spat out as an actual expression of slight disgust came into the swordsman's face for just a second, before returning to its apathetic state. The words gorged into the other man almost like the bladed weapon had moments before.

Something was welling up inside Vincent, choking him, as if two hands were clasping around his throat, digging long nails into the delicate skin there. It had been getting worse from the battle's start, and by now, his insides were on fire. Abruptly, the flesh began to tear with added pressure, letting cold blood blossom like some mock flower from the newly opening wounds that were now appearing all over his body. Purple tone flooded his skin, gradually staining it with its potent colour as fangs burst from the wet cavern of his mouth, gory liquid now running from there, too.

Throwing up a mixture of vomit and fresh blood, tears stinging in his luminous eyes as the black-haired man gripped his chest and stomach tightly, the claw digging into the flesh unnoticed due to the other pain ripping through the shaking form on the ground. His breathing shorted and constricted as he gasped desperately for air. Falling back to his knees, his head threw back, and what would have been a man's scream of agony, came as the roar of a wounded beast.

Calmly watching, the fallen angel raised a delicate eyebrow, studying the events unfold with an indifferent disposition. Now looking upon the monster in front of him, bleeding gashes where the layers of soft tissue had been forced to expand beyond its natural limits during the transformation, and the already critical battle wounds… Standing on all fours, it beat the powerful tail, roaring and snarling with animalistic temperament, the violet fur already saturated and matted together by lifeblood.

Sephiroth smirked to himself slightly once again, battle-lust lighting up the impassive eyes like the Solider he once was: up for a good challenge by a worthy opponent. After all, no one said he could not see this battle as a game. "Now, this is getting interesting…" the silver-haired man contemplated, raising the long blade and, on silently landing on the blood-logged battle field, rushed forward to start the second round of the conflict.


End file.
